I Belong to Me
by emdevereux
Summary: '"Make your choice," he hisses in my ear. I don't know what to say. I don't know how I feel. On the one hand, I'm terrified, for this man – this beast! – in front of me is a stranger, demanding that I either marry him or my friend, the man I'm engaged to, dies...' A different take on the Final Lair, from Christine's perspective. Oneshot.


Hi! This is a oneshot I wrote after to listening to an _Elisabeth_ audio (Elisabeth is a really cool German musical, go check it out, there's a proshot version on YouTube with English subs :D). I've always loved the 'Final Lair' scene in _Phantom,_ and I've always wanted to write an alternative version of it, and not the common alternative version where Christine decides to stay with the Phantom :) This oneshot's a little different, it's very pro-Christine (my favourite character in _Phantom_ is Christine). I feel sometimes she's portrayed as weak and soppy; sometimes people even think she's mean for leaving the Phantom, but that's not my opinion at all ;) Anyway, please read &amp; review, I hope you enjoy! :D 

**I BELONG TO ME**

"Make your choice," he hisses in my ear.

I don't know what to say. I don't know how I feel. On the one hand, I'm terrified, for this man – this beast! – in front of me is a stranger, demanding that I either marry him or my friend, the man I'm engaged to, dies; but on the other, I just feel an enormous amount of pity, for a man who doesn't realize that he can't do this, he can't force another human being to do his bidding just so someone doesn't die.

I'm sick of people dying. I'm sick of being controlled like a puppet. I'm sick of not owning my own mind.

It's time I do so.

I stare into his eyes. I see tears forming in the corners of them. I feel disgusted with him. Once upon a time, he was my angel of music, my guardian. He swore he would always protect me. He was an angel and I was a naïve little girl. Look at us both now: we're changed. We're different people. We're strangers, essentially.

The wedding dress I'm currently wearing, the one he forced me into, is now dirty; he's thrown me on the floor more times than I can count. The dirt is staining the pure white. It's now deformed, I suppose. That's cruel symbolism.

"Make your choice," he says again, emphasizing every syllable, as if I didn't hear the first time. His face is so distorted, like his soul. I suppose my soul's also broken. It shouldn't be like this.

But it is.

_It doesn't have to be…_

I shouldn't have to do everyone else's bidding. I'm Christine Daae. I'm not a puppet – I'm a person! I'm in control of my own destiny. I can't spend the rest of my life with this creature whose tormented me and hurt me. That isn't fair. Does he think I can fix him? Make him normal? Or at least, his version of normal? No. I can't. It isn't my job to fix him. And I don't want to. I want to live my own life, one that's in the sun. I don't want to stand in the shadows any longer.

But doing so…it means Raoul will die. Can I really do that? Can I let him die in return for my freedom? I turn my head and gaze at Raoul. He looks at me; his eyes are pleading me to say yes, that I will marry this phantom. Or is he saying, no, let me die, and be free? I don't know.

I'm faced with a choice. I choose Raoul's freedom, and marry this monster, whom I pity, or I sacrifice him.

Why should I have to choose between two men? Why should I be the one to choose?

I shouldn't have to make this choice. I won't. I choose someone else – I choose me. I choose my happiness. I choose my freedom. I want to be rid of this man – he's my angel no longer. He gave up that position when he murdered Buquet? He's not allowed any more second chances, I've given him enough of those.

But…but…he could kill Raoul if you go free! my mind screams. Yet I know it's an irrational thought – I know this ghost loves me. I don't think he will kill Raoul. I hope he doesn't. But I can't sacrifice myself and become his living bride instead. I'll just have to hope he doesn't. It's either that or the dreaded alternative, one I cannot bear, one I won't accept.

Make your choice… those three words replay in my mind again and again, a broken record designed to torture me before I make my decision my reality. However, I'm done thinking, I'm done being captive. I'm tired of being locked in a cage. I want to be set free. The only person who can do so is myself.

I stand up; the dress weighs me down, but I summon enough courage and strength to keep standing. He looks up at me, surprised; I can also feel Raoul's gaze on me.

I take a deep breath, one that comes right from the pit of my stomach, and speak.

"I shall not end my days with you. And I shall not send Raoul to his grave. Me refusing you does not make your actions my responsibility. If you decide to kill an innocent man, that is of your own volition. Not mine. I choose me – I choose Christine Daae. I want to be free."

I can't bear to look at the monster, so I walk over to Raoul, who looks understandably devastated. "I'm so sorry, Raoul, I really am. But I can't live with him – I can't be his living bride. I hope you understand, and I'm so, so sorry. If I could take us both back to the picnics in the attic and the sea with the red scarf and all the times with Little Lotte please know I would, I'd do so in a heartbeat. Yet I do not have that power. This is what it is. Just know that I really did love you, and once again, I'm sorry."

I turn around and begin to walk off, but Raoul grabs hold of my arm and forces me to look at him. "Christine…I love you," he breathes, before moving his mouth to mine. We stay there for a few seconds, and I feel nothing, just sorrow. But then a spark of the possibility of freedom ignites my spirit, and I smile. We break away and he smiles at me, although I can tell he's frightened, just as frightened as I am. I still don't know how the ghost will respond to this, our declaration of our undying love. I do not care. He doesn't own either of us, and he's haunted us long enough. We can't live like this. We don't deserve to.

"I love you too," I whisper to Raoul. I hope he believes me.

I walk toward the other man, who's curled up in a ball of the floor. I didn't expect this; I thought he would have been angry, that he would've torn Raoul and I apart and forced me to marry him. But he didn't, he's just lying there, not speaking, not moving. For a second I wonder if he has passed, but the gentle fluctuations of his stomach prove that thought wrong. Then I hear a sound. Or at least I think I do.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out. I don't know why, it's not my fault he's like this – shouldn't it be him saying sorry to me? – but it seems the most appropriate response to his actions. "I'm sorry if I hurt you." That sentence truly is genuine – even though he caused me so much pain, I really am sorry if I inadvertently caused him some. "Goodbye."

I turn and walk – the prospect of getting out of here doesn't worry me, I've done it before. I stop for a second – I hear something reminiscent of a wail. I wonder if I should turn around and go back to him – go back to them – but my feet propel me forwards, and I decide not to look back. I hear a few other noises, which frighten me (has he killed Raoul?), and yet I carry on. I have made my choice. It's time I stick to it.

The last noise I hear is one that I can't deny I heard, for it is loud and clear. It's one that violently shakes my mind and body, and it causes me to wonder whether I'll ever be able to stop hearing it.

"Christine! I love you!" the monster's voice cries.

It's daylight when I open the Opera Populaire's doors and step out into the open. Well, it's not full daylight – it's more like the end of sunrise – but the sun is shining gloriously. I stand for a few seconds, basking in it. It's cold – there's still snow on the ground, but I don't care. I can still feel the sun's warmth. I'll have to go back inside soon, and prepare my things and say my goodbyes, for I can't stay here. I don't know where I'll go, but I've saved some money, and hopefully I can make extra singing on the streets, like I used to. I could go south, and stay in France, or go north, and travel to London. I suppose I could try going to America, but there's something in me that's always wanted to see England.

I look down, and notice I'm still wearing the wedding dress, which is now torn and so dirty it's more brown than it is white. I could keep it, but what for? It only reminds me of my angel of music, my plagued, broken angel of music. And I don't need reminding of him – I can't be reminded of him. I can't look back. I can only go forwards, and try to live.

I hear a bird call – the sound is sweet and happy. It darts across the sky rapidly, flying higher and further into the distance; I watch it until I can no longer see it. I shall be like that bird, I decide, I shall be free, for I truly am the master of my own destiny.

I am Christine Daae. I belong to me.


End file.
